


I Was Only Pretending To Hate You

by Icey_Daydreamer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adorable, Angst, Cute, Depression, Fluff, Insecurties, Kick, Laith, Lemon, Lions, Love, M/M, Romance, Self Harm, Sexy, Smut, Trigger Warnings, Voltron, Voltron Lions - Freeform, angsty, reassurance, self harm trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 03:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icey_Daydreamer/pseuds/Icey_Daydreamer
Summary: Lance and Keith both struggle to come to terms with the fact that their hatred for each other is anything but. Lance fights through depression and Keith deals with his insecurities. In other words, this is just some pure angsty Klance cos KICK, fanservice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a fan service fanfic, so enjoy and let me know what you think! My chapters tend to be short by the way.

Prologue 

Keith stared at his ceiling as he tried to wrap his head around his confusing thoughts. He hated Lance. Lance was annoying and stupid and a total idiot. So what if his skin was perfectly tan or that his arrogant grin was kind of cute, or that he was surprisingly more muscular than someone would expect. So what if they were so close during training that they could've kissed? Lance dropped his guard and Keith took the chance to win the training session. Keith still despised him, or so he thought. Ugh, maybe he could sleep off this confusion. The last thing he needed was to fall in love with Lance.

Lance’s eyes glanced at his ceiling as he tried to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. How much of a dumbass could he be? He had let his guard down for a second and...Keith...he gotten so close. He could have leaned in and just kissed him. How could he let Keith even get near him enough to do that?! Argh, this was so infuriating to Lance. He had known his feelings for Keith for quite some time now, but Keith hated him, so he acted like he loathed him too. This fact didn't help his growing depression at all. Lance had never really hated Keith. He's only been pretending to.


	2. Training Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actual start of the story!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the training session that started it all.

"Keith that's cheating!" yelled Lance as the red paladin had him pinned down to the floor of the training deck. He held Lance’s wrist together above his head and twisted, forcing him to drop his bayard. 

"You shouldn't have let your guard down." Keith was so incredibly condescending to Lance when they trained together and it really got under his skin. The temperamental boy released his tight grip on Lance's wrist and stood up, holding his hand out in offer of help. Lance smacked his hand awake and pushed himself up off the floor. "I can get up by myself. I'm not a child." His Voice was overflowing with pure annoyance and embarrassment. He turned his back to Keith In attempt to hide the ever growing blush on his cheeks.

"Lance, C'mon, it's just training. It's not like I would've seriously hurt you." Keith was trying his best to calm the blue paladin but he understood why Lance was so frustrated. Keith had beat him in every training session they had ever done together. Every, Single, One. "Let's go again!" he suggest, he would let Lance win this time to boost his confidence, but since when did he actually care? 

"No. I'm just...I’m going to my lion, don’t follow me! Just leave me alone." He stormed off, exiting the training deck and running to his lion. Keith watched him carefully as he left, he noticed the muscle definition in his back and the way his hips swayed when he walked.

Snap out of it! He told himself, he had to remember that he hated lance, they had a very outspoken rivalry, However, he also admitted to himself that here lately, acting like Lance was the bane of his existence was getting harder and harder to do. The more time Keith spent with the idiot, the more...other feelings...had been growing. He was completely certain that lance didn't reciprocate the emotions so he just ignored them and channeled those irritating urges and confusing feelings into disdain for Lance.


	3. I’m No Sharp Shooter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some sad Lance for plot reasons 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning cos I really think Lance has some form of depression along with his insecurity issues 

Lance sat in the cockpit of the blue lion, his face hidden by his hands as he tried desperately to control the raging sea of thoughts in his head.

"Blue...am-am I even valuable to this team anymore…?" the tears that had been welling up in his eyes finally overflowed and spill down his cheeks like little rivers. 

"I'm no sharpshooter...Keith hates me...I don't even have the courage to confess my own feelings...the team doesn't take me seriously...they all think i'm just a idiot and a flirt...What's the point in even trying anymore?"

He lets out a long sigh when the lion doesn't respond. The mother lioness knew Lance would come into his own, but this was something he had to figure out on his own, if she just spoonfed him confidence, he'd never grow.

"I'm sorry Blue… I'm...i'm going to go lay down for a bt. I'll come back later." He climbed out of the lion and headed toward his bedroom. His room was his safe space, but it could also be his own personal hell as he was left alone with his thoughts.

He shut the door behind him and sat down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, tears still flowing. Everything hurt, emotionally, mentally, just everything. He shucked off his jacket and reached over to the drawer on his bedside table. He pulled out a black box that contained the one thing he could rely on. His perfectly sharp, silver razor blade.

He rolled up his left sleeve and made seven deep cuts horizontally across his wrist. One for every member of team Voltron, and one to remind him that he was the seventh wheel. Each cut bled like a miniature rivers, he stifled a groan of pain and set the blade down on the table before laying back on the bed and closing his eyes, letting the psychical pain distract him from all the thoughts swimming around his mind.


End file.
